


20/20 vision (but we still can't see)

by Dusty_Skyes



Series: Shards of Our Hearts [2]
Category: Banana Bus Squad, The Derp Crew
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bryce is Adam's voice of reason, M/M, Plot With Porn, don't think i have to shift the rating, heart-piece au, i dolphin-dived onto my keyboard, learning to love, lol I lied about not shifting the rating, lots of self-doubt, minor self-harm, remember how i said this would all be fluff?, shifting the tags because this went darker than i expected, this is what no self-control looks like, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:25:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Skyes/pseuds/Dusty_Skyes
Summary: Out of all the stupid things that exist, Nanners is fairly certain that love is the worst.





	1. you'll never see (how much you mean to me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silver_Wraith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Wraith/gifts).



     Out of all the stupid things that exist, Nanners is fairly certain that love is the worst.

     (As a child, he used to be quite excited about heart-pieces. The idea of sharing something so intimate with your significant other made him giddy inside; the flutter of your lover’s heartbeat in your chest was something he dreamed of. It was a thing that he dreamed of every night, the sensation of trading heart-pieces with the person you loved deeply.

     It was something Adam looked forward to doing once he was all grown up. He had plans as to the where and when and everything.

     He still remembers the day his dream crashed and burned. The day his mother gasped sharply and clutched at her breast; the moment her shared heart-piece with his father reformed in her hands, before crumbling into dust; the hour his father walked out of their lives.)

     ((She killed herself in her grief. Adam still recalls finding her body lying in a pool of her own blood. He renames himself Nanners sometime during the blur of days following. Adam is the child who still believed in love. Nanners has no time for the silliness that is heart-pieces.))

     “Hey, Nanners! You ready to play?” Ze’s voice echoes in his headphone, his familiar tone bright and cheerful.

     “About time you showed up,” Chilled comments, though he doesn’t the least bit mad; he sounds like he’s barely refraining from laughing. Smitty calls a hello, as does Max. Nanners giggles at them, already knowing that they’re going to regret playing with him tonight. He _does_ want to play Golf With Friends after all, not to mention his plan to throw in the crazy-ass shapes that drive everyone—including himself—absolutely insane. Nanners can already taste their screams of frustration. It’ll be amazing.

     Ze rolls his eyes in his camera, looking faintly exasperated. “So, what are we going to play today?”

     Nanners smirks widely, giggling almost manically. “Golf With Friends,” he says innocently.

     Chilled, however, looks vaguely suspicious. “Normal balls? Or those fucking shapes that pisses everyone off?”

     “What makes you think I’d _ever_ pick the shapes?”

     “Because we know you,” Chilled says flatly, Ze nodding at his words, and Nanners can’t really refute that. He shrugs lazily and giggles once more, cheerfully ticking off the boxes for both random shapes and random sizes.

     He knows full well the others will be horrified when the screen loads  completely . 

     (Their reactions are quite priceless when the golf balls load all the way. Ze curses violently, Chilled blanches,  Max pinches the bridge of his nose, and Smitty starts cackling loudly.)

     ((Smitty has always been rather good at these games, especially the trick shots. It’s rather endearing, even  if him winning does piss Nanners off.  Random shapes makes those trick shots a lot harder, which is the main reason he includes them in the first place.))

     “Oh, for fucks sake, dude, why would you do this to us?” Ze mutters once the first map has loaded completely. It’s the Twilight one; the one that has the completely bullshit holes that makes _all_ of them rage, and Chilled sighs heavily and drops his head into his hands.  He might be praying to whatever deity exists in the hope of his computer crashing.

     Max groans. “Dude, really? Why?  Why would you pick this course? Everyone hates this bullshit map.” He clicks his mouse, taking his first shot and cursing in frustration when the cone flies awkwardly over a corner  and out of bounds. “Oh, fuck me!”

     Nanners giggles and fires, quite happily flinging his cone in a way that it flies within range of the hole. Smitty cackles loudly and somehow manages to copy his stroke—except he does it better and lands the cone directly in the hole. “Hole in motherfucking one!” he shrieks, laughing hysterically. 

     “Are you fucking kidding me?” Max grumbles under his breath, cursing both Nanners and Smitty out, and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

     “What kind of bullshit shot was that?” Ze asks, grumbling a little under his breath.

     “The best kind,” Smitty replies smugly, “and _you_ are running out of time.” The curse Ze lets out is one Nanners has never heard him use before and he can’t help himself; he giggles hysterically, covering his mouth in an attempt to muffle his glee. 

     Golf With Friends in the Twilight course with randomly sized shapes goes exactly as Nanners expected, with him and Smitty competing for first, and Ze, Max, and Chilled trying desperately to not end up in last. In the end, Nanners wins by one point, Smitty takes second, Ze manages a hole in one that brings him into third, Max takes fourth by two points, and Chilled sighs as he winds up in fifth. “Dammit,” he mutters. “I officially hate you, Nanners; I hope you know that.”

     “Aw, Chilled,” Nanners returns, practically cooing the words, “I love you, too.” He giggles hysterically and suggests a rematch, something that is enthusiastically taken up by Smitty much to the other’s groans.

_(His friends are the best._

_Seriously, Nanners can’t imagine life without them.)_

**oOo**

     In retrospect, Nanners probably should have seen it coming. It’s not his birthday, yet he still gets a gift from Ze; _‘I saw it and immediately knew it belonged to you,’_ the other writes. In the box is one of the oddest plushes Nanners has ever laid eyes on. It’s a bunch of cushy, bright yellow bananas, the word ‘ _SeaNanners’_ embroidered down the seam of the largest one.

     He giggles and plucks it from its cushioning, tossing it up and down as he turns on his Skype. Ze is already on and he immediately pulls the other up. “What a ridiculously stupid thing,” Nanners comments with a wide grin the second his friend appears in the frame. “I love it.” He tosses it again, idly catching it before inspecting the writing.

     Chilled pops on next and Nanners presents the plush, giggling even more when the other cracks up laughing. “Where did you _get_ that?” Chilled gasps out between cackles, leaning back in his chair as he wheezes for breath.

     Nanners shrugs. “Ask Ze. He’s the one who gave it me,” he says, flinging it upwards again.

     (He misses the catch; the banana hits the floor with the faintest of thuds and Ze physically spasms, face clouding with agony for a split second. Nanners doesn’t notice.)

     “Fuck,” he mutters, leaning over to pick it up. “Sorry, Ze. Didn’t mean to drop it.”

     Ze’s smile is strained, faint, and weak all at the same time. “No problem.” He runs a hand through his hair and tugs his familiar red hat on, cracking his neck. “So, what are we going to play?” The brunet pauses for a second before hastily adding, “No more Golf With Friends. _Please_.”

     “I have to agree with Ze. That last one was awful. How you and Smitty didn’t get shit scores is beyond me.”

     “That’s because we’re actually _good_ at that game,” Nanners replies smugly, giggling when both Ze and Chilled make appalled noises.

     “ _Excuse you_ ,” Chilled retorts just as Max connects to their call, “I _am_ good at that game. Just not when it’s the shape bullshit.”

     “Agreed.”

     “Hey, Max,” Ze says; he’s stretching now, long and lazy.

     Nanners flips the banana upwards again, grinning as it spins in the air.

_(He doesn’t notice the way Ze winces every time he tosses it._

_Nor does he catch the way the other rubs his chest as if in pain.)_

**oOo**

     It takes Nanners three weeks and four days to realizes that Ze’s gift is a heart-piece. All of the other’s actions add up now; the wincing whenever it’s tossed, the sad, all-too-knowing smiles, the dodging whenever he’s questioned as to where he got the plush, and that’s not even getting into the gasp he hadn’t been able to smother when Nanners dropped it again.

     Nanners stares at the gift, mind caught in the memory of finding his mother’s cooling body, and tries to keep from screaming. Now that he knows what it is, he can see the way the plush pulses and flutters in his hands, perfectly in time with the beat of Ze’s heart.

     Swallowing harshly, Nanners places it aside and stands up, pacing nervously across his kitchen floor. His breathing is sharp and rapid, his gaze constantly returning to the stuffed bunch of bananas sitting on the counter.

     It’s a heart-piece. From Ze, of all people, and Nanners doesn’t know how to react.

     ( His mother lost her life because of heart-pieces. Now he has a part of Ze in his hands. Nanners doesn’t want it.  He doesn’t want this thing at all. )

     There’s a box lying nearby, the packaging of something that he’d ordered recently sitting on a side table, and Nanners grabs it. This is stupid and rude and he shouldn’t be doing this but—

     But Nanners doesn’t care. He drops the banana inside and closes the flaps, scribbling Ze’s address across the top.

_(It’s for the best, really._

_There’s no such thing as a happy ending.)_


	2. the fire i began (is burning me alive)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i promised to have this up yesterday, but real life smacked me in the face and i wasn't able to. sorry.

     For almost two weeks after Nanners returns the heart-piece, there’s no sign of Ze. His channel still updates, but it’s older stuff; things they recorded long ago, and Nanners knows that the other is avoiding him.

     (He feels terrible; there’s something horrible gnawing at the inside of his chest. Max and Chilled keep looking at him suspiciously. Nanners knows that they suspect something.)

     “So,” Chilled drawls, dragging the word out until it’s four syllables. “Did something happen with Ze?” Nanners remains silent. The less he says, the less likely he is to confess about what he has just done.

     (Returning a heart-piece isn’t just saying ‘no’, it’s informing the person that you don’t care about them at all. It’s the worst sort of rejection.)

     “Dude, Nanners,” Max mutters. He scratches his cheek and clicks his tongue in annoyance. “We know something happened. Steven isn’t even answering Anthony or I.”

     Nanners winces a little. Even though he’s showed his face, the others in the group only know him by his username. He shrugs, knowing full well that they won’t buy his bullshit, and gets up to grab something to eat. Halfway out of the room, Chilled exclaims, “Ze!” and Nanners jerks, stumbling slightly.

     Forget eating. Despite returning the heart-piece, he has to know that the other is all right.

     (Okay, so maybe he feels guilty about doing it. But he couldn’t keep it. Not when he doesn’t believe in love.)

     He settles back into the seat and shoves his headphones on, nervously meeting the other’s gaze. Ze looks terrible. There are bags under his eyes and his smile is weak. “Hey, guys,” he says, not looking in Nanners’ direction.

     Max scowls. “What the hell happened to you? You look terrible.”

     Ze sighs and licks his lips. “I had a heart-piece returned to me,” he says, and Nanners braces himself for what he knows is coming.

     “What a fucking dick,” Chilled immediately snarls. “I have half a mind to beat that asshole over the head. How could somebody reject someone as sweet as you, Ze?” He eyes a baseball bat that’s barely on screen like he wants to pick it up.

     “Agreed.” Max nods sharply as he cracks his knuckles threateningly, a dangerous look on his face. Ze’s eyes flicker towards Nanners quickly then back, and he shakes his head slowly.

     “No,” Ze says firmly. “Whatever reason they had for returning the heart-piece, you will not persecute them for it.” He breathes in slowly. “I will not allow it.”

     Chilled leans back in his chair. “Do we know them?”

     Max glances towards him and then quietly comments, “You’ve been awfully quiet, Nanners.”

     Nanners twitches. “I see no reason to interrogate Ze about the things he does off-line,” he says, pretending to be vaguely annoyed. “Are we here to play or ask about his love-life?” The smile Ze gives him is thankful and Nanners swallows nervously.

_(He doesn’t believe in love._

_At least, not yet.)_

**oOo**

     Somehow, despite how Nanners tries to make sure it doesn’t happen again, he gets another heart-piece. This time it’s from Chilled, a keychain of everything he likes. He holds it up to the light and watches the way it glitters; the pulse and glow of the heartbeat is faint. “Fuck,” Nanners whispers as the panic builds in his throat; he’s suddenly finding it impossible to breathe and the room keeps going weirdly dark.

     He needs to talk to someone _right now_.

     Practically choking on his panic, Nanners hurls the keychain onto the bed and lunges for his computer. Bryce’s name is near the top of Discord, not his most recent call but close enough, and he clicks on it.

     For a moment there’s only the sound of his rapid breathing, then the blond’s face appears on his screen. “Hello? Nanners?” He tilts his head to the side and blinks curiously. “Did you need something?”

     “Bryce. Please tell me you’re alone.”

     “Not, really, no. Sorry. I can shoo them out though if you want me to.”

     “I—please. I need to talk and you’re the least judgmental person I could think of.”

     The blond nods and gets up from his computer and Nanners can hear him barking orders to scram. Laughter sounds on the other side of a door, faintly familiar, and he swallows nervously when Bryce locks the door to the room holding his setup and settles back into his seat. He slides his headphones on and flashes Nanners a wide grin. “All right, I chased Ohm and Cartoonz out. They said they wanted to see some sights anyway, so it all works out. Now, what do you need?”

     Whirling around, which is probably a bad idea because it nearly rips his headphones off, Nanners snatches up Chilled’s heart-piece and jangles it frantically. “I got a heart-piece.”

     Bryce’s face lights up. “Congratulations,” he says, beaming widely. “That’s definitely something to celebr—”

     “My mother killed herself because of these fucking things,” Nanners spits, and he’s cutting Bryce off mid-sentence, but he doesn’t care. “I watched her slit her throat. I hate their very existence.” Bryce goes silent and his blue eyes are wide with horror.

     “Nanners…” he says quietly, and there’s a sadness in his gaze.

     “I don’t want it. I hate them. All they do is bring pain.” He throws it across the room, watching as it lands on the bed.

     (He can’t throw it against a wall. Not with the knowledge that Chilled would feel the blow.)

     “The best thing would be to return it, then. Especially if it causes you that much grief.”

     Nanners chokes. “I did that to the one Ze gave me. He was miserable for days. I can’t do that to Chilled.”

     Bryce scowls a little, looking like he’s barely resisting throwing his hands up in frustration. Nanners knows the feeling well. “Then hide it in a box and forget about it. But you’re going to have to make a choice, one that only you can make.” He huffs a breath and closes their call—it’s the rudest Bryce has ever been to him, but the blond is clearly finished with the conversation.

     Slowly, ever so slowly, Nanners removes his headphones, walks over to his bed, and stares down at the keychain sitting on a blanket. He picks it up and twists it, watching as the charms gleam in the light. It’s...pretty; the way the thing glimmers in the light that reflects off of each charm. There’s the barest, faintest pulse of life, a heartbeat that he can barely hear over the blood roaring in his ears, and Nanners swallows nervously.

     Why, of all people in existence, why would Chilled fall in love with _him_?

     Nanners is very much broken and he knows it.

     So, why him? What is even appealing?

     (When he looks in the mirror, all he can see is the fractured shards of someone looking back.)

_((Nanners wants to mail the heart-piece back to Chilled and just be done with it._

_But the thought of Ze’s heartbroken, exhausted expression stops him._

_He can’t do that to Chilled.))_

**oOo**

     In the end, Nanners keeps the heart-piece, though he does hide it in a drawer. As long as he doesn’t have to look at it, he’ll be fine.

     (The heart-piece lingers in the back of his mind; the knowledge of it’s existence bothering him. He often finds himself taking it out just to look at it.)

     ((It gets worse when Max sends him a heart-piece. This one is a plush, too, and it’s an exact replica of the cat he uses as his YouTube avatar. Nanners takes one look and chokes, then practically hurls it into the drawer with the keychain, slamming it shut and locking it with the key. He can’t do this.

     Then Smitty sends him one and Nanners just about has a full-on panic attack. What do they even see in him? He’s not attractive, just a group of broken shards pretending to be something vaguely human. That heart-piece joins the other two in the drawer.))

     Nanners skips the next gaming match, claiming that he has too much to edit, and he knows that the others don’t believe him, but he doesn’t care. He can’t face them. Not when he has three heart-pieces in a drawer.

     (The fact that there should be _four_ heart-pieces in that drawer instead of three bothers Nanners immensely. He tries not to think about it too much.)

     It takes almost an entire week—plus sleepless nights and several frantic texts to Bryce—before Nanners manages to find enough courage to rejoin Ze, Max, Smitty, and Chilled for a game. He boots up his Discord, leaving his camera off because he looks terrible, and quietly waits for the others to notice.

     Ze does first, his face lighting up—it doesn’t extend to his eyes, Nanners notes with a wince—and cheerfully calls a hello. “Where have you been, Nanners?”

     “Busy. Spent the week catching up on my editing.” Which is a lie, of course, but they don’t need to know that. He smiles, then remembers that they can’t see him right now, and giggles brightly. It sounds incredibly fake to his ears, and Nanners prays that the others don’t call him out on it.

     (They don’t, but he can see the way they glance at each other; they want to call him out.)

_(Nanners is falling apart inside._

_It’s the least he deserves.)_


	3. you gave me your heart (here is mine in return)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have a confession to make. This thing was supposed to be three chapters of fluff. Also, remember how I said this would all get better? Yeeeah, I lied. Kinda. Maybe.

     Of all things that had to happen, this is possibly the absolute _worst_. Why him? The Gods must be laughing at him behind his back. What else can it possibly be?

     Nanners is ninety nine percent certain that he’s going insane. It’s a little click in the back of his mind, the faintest sensation that he’s missing things. It makes it harder to breath—though not in a bad way; it’s the sensation of feeling your heart quicken whenever you’re around someone you care deeply about. He’s falling in love, even though he swore he never would. Bryce is a saint for putting up with him; him and his ridiculous tirades where he’s stuck desperately trying to figure out his own love-life and failing miserably. He’s not good enough, not yet, but he can certainly try.

     (There are three heart-pieces locked in a table by his bed; he constantly finds himself looking in their direction, barely resisting opening the drawer so he can cradle them within his hands.)

     ((Nanners isn’t in love, not yet, but he’s getting there. His mother’s death isn’t really as scarring anymore. Not when he’s fairly certain that his friends would never do what his father did.))

_(He’s still terrified of trying anything._

_Nanners isn’t really good at this sort of thing._

_But first, he needs to get that banana back.)_

**oOo**

     It takes Nanners three days to find the courage to go see Ze in person. He swallows nervously, standing at the other’s front door, and raises a hand to knock.

     (Either Ze is heading out to do something, or he has extremely good intuition when someone’s at his door because it opens before he can even connect.)

     Ze’s eyes go huge and he blurts, “Nanners?” like he never expected to see him standing there.

     Nanners freezes for a second and glances around quickly. “Adam,” he hisses as he pushes Ze inside and closes the door behind them.

     “What?”

     “It’s Adam.” He breathes in slowly and looks the other in the eye. “My name is Adam.” Ze stares at him and Nanners plows on. “I want that heart-piece back.”

     “Excuse me?”

     “I shouldn’t have returned it. I wasn’t thinking straight and I panicked and I want it back.”

     Ze staggers forward and slaps a hand against Nanners’ chest. “You think _you have a right?_ ” he nearly bellows, fury written across his face, and it’s the first time the other has really gotten mad at him, and Nanners flinches back. Ze presses on, this time slapping him hard enough to make his head snap to the side, and Nanners brings up his hands in a rather desperate attempt to block the blows.

     “Ze!” he yelps, ducking out of the way of another swing, spinning around so as to not leave his back unguarded. His gaze catches on the yellow banana plush sitting on top of the fireplace and Nanners lunges for it immediately. He skids around a chair—there’s no way he’s going to vault Ze’s furniture; Ze has no such regards and leaps over a sofa—and skids to a halt, snatching the soft toy up. It pulses violently in his hands, beating rapidly and glowing a furious red.

     A hand snatches it away and Ze snarls wordlessly; Nanners’ hands move on their own, and he takes it back and leaps back a few steps and—

     The sound that comes out of Ze’s throat is nearly inhuman, a shriek of wordless fury that boarders on demonic, and the brunet launches himself forward, crashing into Nanners’ form with all the speed of a fright train.

     They go down together, Nanners cracks his head against the floor hard enough to make him see stars for a few, precious moments, and that’s all the time Ze needs to rip the heart-piece out of his hands and leap off of him. He backs up several steps, looking very much like a cornered animal, and Nanners can feel the fury bubble up in his bones.

     He needs to get out of here, preferably before he does something stupid like attempt to strangle the other.

     Whirling on his heel, Nanners storms towards the door and nearly throws it open, his pace not changing as he strides down the sidewalk. Behind him Ze appears at the opening, bellowing, “You get back here! I’m not done with you!” and Nanners spins around.

     “I see no reason to talk to you if you’re going to be a childish brat!” he spits back, fury bone deep—he shouldn’t be talking to Ze like this, not the sweet Canadian who’s so much fun to game with, but he’s just _so angry—_ and heads towards the main sidewalk.

     An arm wraps around his and then Ze is dragging him back inside with a surprising amount of strength; they’re probably putting on a real show for the neighbors, but neither one cares right now. The thud of the door slamming shut and the click of the deadbolt sliding home sound a lot like a death-bell, but Nanners is too far gone to really consider it much. The plush heart-piece sits abandoned on a table where Ze had left it and he plucks it up, neatly avoiding the other’s grasping hands. “This,” Nanners says, and the pitch of his voice has hit a new record low, “is mine and you can’t stop me from taking it.”

     It’s probably—most definitely—the wrong thing to say because Ze looks five seconds away from actually stabbing him; his gaze actually flickers towards his knife rack, and Nanners casually steps towards the now locked front door. “You _rejected_ me,” the Canadian says, eyes flashing. “What makes you think _you_ have any right?”

     Memories of his mother’s corpse flicker across his mind’s eye and Nanners nearly chokes on his anger. “You know nothing!”

     “You tell me nothing!”

     Nanners storms forward, heart-piece tucked under one arm, and slaps a palm flat against Ze’s chest. “You mailed it to me and I panicked, end of story.”

     “End of story,” Ze mocks, tone pitching upwards until it’s falsetto, “Not the end of the story, you bitch! It’s the end of the story when _I_ say so, not you! Now for once in your fucking life, tell me the goddamn truth and not some fucking lie!”

_Adam—_ not Nanners, _Adam—_ sees red. “My mother committed suicide because of these things!” he roars. “ _I_ _HATE THEM!_ ”

     Ze practically rips it from his hands and Adam snarls because that heart-piece is _his_ , that part of the Canadian belongs to _him_ ; his to love and cherish and—

     It dissolves in a glow of redish pink mist, vanishing into thin air. For a moment there’s nothing but silence; the only sound filling the room is their heavy breathing. Then they hear it, loud and quick and so familiar and yet so different at the same time.

_Lub-dub._

_Lub-dub._

_Lub-dub._

_Lub-dub._

     (There’s a new, rapid heartbeat in his breast. By the look on Ze’s face, he can feel it, too.)

     For a moment, both Ze and Adam do nothing but stare at each other, their eyes wide and heartbeats thumping rhythmically in time. Then Ze’s gaze lowers, his eyes shifting to look at their empty hands. His head drops and he sags into himself. “Get out.”

     “What?”

     “Get. Out,” he snarls. His face comes up and Adam is startled by the level of fury written across it. “Get the _FUCK_ out of my house!”

     Adam stumbles to his feet and races for the door, practically choking on whatever emotion is filling his chest. The deadbolt is shoved aside and he rips the door open, bolting down the street and nearly tripping over his feet as he runs. He doesn’t stop running until he’s several blocks away, nearly back to his own house even, and gasping for breath with his hands on his knees.

_(The fact that Ze doesn’t follow him is the worst part._

_It tells Adam all he needs to know.)_


	4. you don’t need tricks; you don’t need treats (and you don’t need me)

     There are many things Ze regrets. Letting his anger rupture and explode, bellowing furiously at the man who apparently, now felt the same. He can feel the rapid heartbeat in his chest, the faint feeling of panic that grows larger with every second until its nearly swallowing him whole.

     (An urge in the back of his mind grows larger, the need to eliminate something that shouldn’t exist.)

     His mind is stuck on the last thing Nanners—no, it’s Adam, apparently, and knowing the other’s real name is like something clicked in his head—said, and suddenly he understands why the other freaked at his heart-piece.

     And that’s not even mentioning the fact that _Adam came back for it._ He came to fetch the heart-piece because he wanted it back and Ze threw him out because he couldn’t think straight; he just reacted and it was the worst choice he could have ever made.

     He regrets even getting up this morning; regrets opening the door when he spotted Nanners walking up his sidewalk; regrets letting his mouth run away from him. If he could go back in time, today is definitely a day he would do over again, if only to do it right the first time. Get it right and properly trade heart-pieces with the first person he ever gave one to.

     (Chilled, Max, and Smitty have the others. They haven’t returned them yet, so the only heartbeat in his chest is Nanners, but he’s okay with that. It beats faintly in his chest, faster than he normally would like, but he’s more focused on actually having a heartbeat again.

     When Ze was a child, he used to dream about trading a heart-piece with a lovely lady. It was all his mother would talk about as he grew up; she practically planned his wedding for him and he was perfectly okay with that. As Ze aged, he would glance around, looking at features and personality, but he was never attracted to any of them in the least. It drove his mother insane for years; she couldn’t understand why he hadn’t given away a heart-piece yet.

     She practically nagged him once he hit twenty, calling almost every day in an attempt to weasel information out of him. It got to the point where he actually had to get a different number for his cell during his college years. He still doesn’t answer her and has plans to change his number again sometime soon, if only to avoid listening to her nag.

     Ze never expected to fall in love with a man, much less give away all of his heart-pieces to all four of his best friends. He’ll never tell his mother about this but he wouldn’t change it at all, though.)

     ((There’s something in his chest that tells him he needs to go and see Adam right now. The blank look on Nanners’ face as he fled alarms Ze and he needs to make sure that the other is all right. Besides, this whole situation is pretty much his fault and he really needs to apologize right now.))

     He breathes in slowly and grabs his keys, locking the door behind him as he heads out into the street. Nanners’ home is close enough to walk to, thank the gods, and he turns in its direction. As he walks, Ze hums faintly. It’s a song he learned from Nanners, something that the other had always been humming and he just kinda of picked it up somewhere along the way.

     Everyone in the group has picked up on each other’s mannerisms by now. Whether it’s Nanners and Smitty sharing a sheepish head-scratch, or Max and Chilled pinching the bridge of their noses in sync when exasperated, they look more like a group of lovers than mere friends.

     Not like he minds that. If he’s being completely honest, Ze is quite happy being five hundred percent in love with the others. Sure, he’d be happier if they loved him back, but Ze isn’t really picky. He’s quite happy just being near them, actually playing games with the others is practically heaven.

     (He remembers when he first ran met them, and even back then there was something charming about the others. If Ze’s being entirely honest, he was interested right from the start. Right back at the beginning when Chilled first pronounced his name, smooth and silky; Ze was fucked then and there.)

     The front door to Nanners’ home looms in front of him and Ze pauses, breathing in slowly as he stares up at it. He shudders, the sensation of _wrong_ vibrating up his spine, and the sheer need to enter overwhelms him completely.

_(Something is wrong._

_Something is very wrong.)_

**oOo**

     Everything just goes blank in the back of his mind and Adam walks blankly down his street, eyes empty. His mind is whirling, leaping from thought to thought, and there’s a lump the size of a mountain in his throat. He’s having trouble breathing. The door to his home comes open with the quiet click of a lock and he swallows nervously, stepping slowly into the dark. Every footstep makes his throat close further.

     (He’s always had voices in the back of his mind, ever since he was a child they would try and whisper to him. For the longest time, they were nothing but half-formed words, glitching out halfway through a syllable and making it impossible to understand the word said.)

     But now—

     (They’re so loud in his ears. Whispering and giggling and pointing out every flaw. As if he doesn’t already know about them. Adam is very much aware of everything that he has done; there’s no possible way for him to hate himself any more than he already does.)

     The mask that is Nanners has cracked into thousands of shards, revealing the terrified child that had been locked away so long ago. For the first time in years, the wall has been destroyed and now Adam is on the surface and experiencing everything directly.

     (For the first time, Adam grieves for the mother that took her own life when abandoned, paying no heed to the child she left behind. He grieves for the father that walked out on their family, for the man who destroyed his wife with one blow. Grief for the anger he let pool within his heart, for the friends he drove away because of his hatred of heart-pieces.)

_You can’t do anything right, can you?_ something inside of himself purrs and Adam flinches—it’s right, they’re always right.  _You know what to do_ , it says, and even though the words are barely more than a whisper, it sounds so much louder than the cacophony of  voices frantically screaming no, and—

     Ȇ̶͍ ̶̖͌Ĺ̸̤ ̴̲I̶̭͑ ̵͕͠M̴̰̈ ̸̯̐Í̵͍ ̷̟̕N̶͙ ̷̱̈́A̸̙͛ ̸̨̛Ţ̷̿ ̸̹̂Ḛ̶͗ ̶͖̈ṱ̸̿h̴͉̆ĕ̸̢ ̶͚̆M̶̯͋ ̵̢̎I̴̦͊ ̸̧̋S̴̲̆ ̴̲̃Ṭ̴͒ ̶̹̌A̴̺͝ ̵̫̎K̵͍͠ ̵̡̇Ë̵̱́ ̴̭̋

_(Adam picks up a knife._

_Soon it will be over._

_It has to be.)_


	5. i’ve got him (and he’s got me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i figured i should stop teasing about the fluff and actually post it. :-)

     The door comes open with a quiet click and Ze steps inside, glancing around slowly at the empty living room. He can hear the faint gush of a running sink and heads towards it, feeling very much like something is wrong. Adam is in the kitchen, standing in front of the sink, and there’s a small pile of dirty dishes off the counter beside him. He isn’t moving though, just staring down at the water, and Ze takes a step forward. “Adam?” he asks, and the other spasms. He whirls, jerking sharply, and almost immediately shoves his hands behind him and back into the water.

     “Ze?”

     (There’s a splatter of red across the counter that wasn’t there before and Ze feels his heart leap into his throat; he nearly chokes on it.)

     He steps forward and snatches Adam’s elbow, yanking it up and out of the water. Across his wrists are slender gashes, two on each arm. They’re bleeding sluggishly, not enough to be dangerous, but clearly intentional. The water is tinted red and Ze can see a faintly bloody knife sitting on the bottom of the sink. “Adam…” he breathes, then immediately whirls and runs for the first-aid kit that hangs on the wall. It’s dropped on the counter and he yanks it open, pulling out a long roll of bandages and reaching for a bloody wrist.

     Adam steps away from him and he looks only moments from actually tearing up. “I—”

     Ze licks his lips nervously and holds out his hand, palm up. “Please, Adam. Let me bandage your wrist,” he says quietly, and the other breathes in slowly and lets Ze take it. He says nothing as Ze cleans the blood off of his skin and wraps it gently, taping the end of the bandage shut. Adam bites his bottom lip, chewing nervously on the skin, and looks away. “This isn’t you, Adam. Where’s the giggling bastard I know and love?”

     “I haven’t been Nanners for a while now,” Adam says quietly.

     “And who are you now?”

     “Adam. Nanners didn’t care about heart-pieces. He didn’t even have emotions aside from smug and annoyed.”

     Ze sighs softly and lifts up a wrist, gently pressing his lips against the bandages there. “Yes, he did. They were just muted.” Adam smiles gently and makes a choking noise, thin tears start dribbling down his cheeks and he sniffs gently, rubbing at his face with a fist.

     “Ze, I—”

     The Canadian shakes his head gently and silences his words with a brush of their lips; their hearts beating perfectly in time, and Ze presses their foreheads together. “You should sleep a little. I’ll finish the dishes.”

     Adam nods and lets Ze lead him towards the couch; he drops down onto it and curls up, tucking his legs underneath him. Ze drapes a blanket over his lap and fetches a glass of water from the kitchen, setting it onto the table beside him. “If you need anything, just call my name,” he says quietly, pressing their lips together. Adam nods and snuggles in, closing his eyes, and Ze watches quietly as the other drifts off fairly quickly.

     Turning around, Ze vanishes into the kitchen, refilling the sink with hot, soapy water, and starting with the bloody knife. He tries not to think of the fact that Adam used the blade on himself, nor that there’s blood splatters on the counter beside him. Those will need to be cleaned up as soon as possible, preferably before they stain. As each dish is cleaned, he sets it aside to dry, all the while listening to Adam’s faint breathing. Each exhale has the faintest wheeze to it, a sort of whistle that’s just barely audible to his ears, and Ze can’t help but smile.

     (The blood on the counter is bleached away and Ze scrubs the sink until it shines and he can see his own reflection. Then he cooks.)

     ((Ze is very much a stress cook. The worse it is, the more he creates elaborate shit in high quantities. He’s rolling pie dough at the moment, having spent the last two hours peeling, slicing, and boiling apples in a sugar syrup for the mixed fruit filling, and the kitchen is already starting to smell like spices. It’s like being back in his grandmother’s kitchen again and he’s forgotten how much he missed it.))

     He’s distracted by Adam’s Discord going off—apparently the other left his laptop on—and Ze pauses to fetch the other’s laptop, opening the program and dropping the volume so it doesn’t wake Adam. Max, Smitty, and Chilled all appear on the screen; Chilled immediately calls, “Hey, Nanners, ready to play?” then pauses, and blinks. “Wait, Ze? What are you doing with Nanners’ laptop?”

     “Shh,” Ze says quietly, pressing a finger to his lips before going back to rubbing butter and flour between his fingers. “Adam’s asleep.”

     “Adam?”

     Ze blinks, then shrugs. “Oh, Nanners. His real name’s Adam. He’s asleep on the couch right now.”

     Max raises a brow slowly. “Are you at his place?”

     “Yeah, I am.”

     “Do I see pie dough?” Smitty asks, curiously.

     “Apple. I’m stress baking.”

     Chilled frowns. “Stress baking? Why the fuck are you stress baking?”

     Ze licks his lips and sighs heavily. “You are not to give Adam shit for this.” He pauses for a moment before quietly adding, “He’s a little emotionally destroyed right now.”

     “What?”

     “Promise me,” Ze says sharply, eyes flashing. Max blinks for a second, jerking back a little in his surprise, and then slowly nods. The others follow behind a little while later, quietly agreeing. “Adam was the one who originally rejected my heart-piece.” Chilled’s eyes darken and he opens his mouth to obviously say something vicious and scathing, but Ze raises a hand, cutting him off with, “He had his personal reasons, ones that we’ve more or less sorted though. Now we share heart-pieces.” Ze smiles and presses a hand to his chest, listening to the faint flutter.

     Behind him, even as he stirs the apples cooking slowly on the stove, he can still hear Adam’s faint breathing, but it’s uneven in the way that speaks of someone starting to wake up. The other groans and rolls over, kicking the blanket off and onto the floor as he sits up. “Ze?”

     Ze turns and smiles at him, stepping aside to show the others on his Discord. “Hey, sorry. It was on and they called, so I answered before it could wake you up.”

     Adam’s smile is weak, but there, and his gaze flickers towards them. “I don’t mind.”

     Chilled breathes in slowly and then grins widely. “Hey, dude. Ze said you weren’t feeling very well.” His gaze flickers towards the fresh bandages on Adam’s pale wrists, _knowing_ appearing within their depths, but he doesn’t say anything and for that Ze is very thankful. He stirs the apples again and watches the way Adam stretches slowly.

     “What are you making? It smells really good.” Adam licks his lips and stands up, carefully making his way into the kitchen. “Is that apple pie? I haven’t had apple pie in a while.”

     “It is,” Ze tells him as he assembles it, “and it’s all yours, seeing as the other’s don’t live nearby.” The smile he’s given is as bright as the sun, and Adam covers his mouth as he laughs, the same, beautiful, dolphin-like sound that Ze first fell in love with. It’s infectious and Ze starts giggling too, the sound just as bright, and he faintly hears the others laughing as well.

     “Now that’s not fair,” Smitty says, and he looks like he’s a few seconds away from pouting.

     Ze shrugs. “Well, if you lived closer, then you could join us for pie as well,” he says sweetly, and Adam’s laughter becomes uncontrollable.

_(There’s still a tired sort of exhaustion in Adam’s eyes._

_Not quite as much, but still visible._

_It’s a start, at least.)_


	6. you hold my heart (let me hold yours, too)

     In retrospect, Ze should have known that it wouldn’t be this easy. For a few days, everything seems to be fine and even Adam has mostly perked up; he plays with them again, laughing gleefully at their anger whenever they play golf and raging when Brian purposefully smashes his own ball off of a ledge.

     (Ze should have seen the signs, honestly. They were right there in front of him and he _still_ managed to miss every single one.)

     It begins with weird facial expressions, like Adam wants to say something but doesn’t, and slowly evolves into the other pulling away from him both emotionally and physically. Ze doesn’t know what to do or say; he doesn’t want to push the other too far. Adam isn’t exactly the best emotionally, and Ze would rather not accidentally trigger something.

     They fight a couple times, mostly about Adam shoving him away, and Ze feels terrible when, after storming out and slamming the door behind him in an attempt to keep his temper in check, he hears the familiar sounds of hastily muffled sobs. It breaks his heart, really, and he has to swallow the emotions that build up in his throat.

     The night he finds everything out is one hell of a roller coaster. He wakes up halfway through the night, suddenly feeling like something is off, and Ze gets up off of the couch. Adam’s room is empty, the sheets thrown back on the bed, and Ze glances around. The light in the kitchen is on and he peeks around the corner, feeling his heart leap into his throat. Adam sits on the floor, sobbing quietly and clutching bloody wrists. The bandages that once covered them lie scattered across the tiles and there’s a bloody knife to his left. “You can’t do anything right,” he spits. “Can’t even keep a goddamn promise.”

     A choked sob escapes his throat and Adam picks at the open wounds, quietly whispering, “Why would Ze ever want you? All they ever do is leave you in the end. You’re never good enough.”

     Suddenly Ze understands quite a bit more than he did before. He strides into the kitchen—Adam’s head snaps up and he blanches to a misty shade of white—and settles down next to him, gently taking his wrists and carefully rebandaging them. “You’re not weak, Adam,” Ze says quietly. “You’re so strong for working with this so long.” He tapes the bandages closed and presses their foreheads together, then kisses him gently. “Just promise me one thing.”

     Adam sniffs and looks at him. “And what would that be?” he asks, quietly.

     “If you ever feel the urge to do this again, I don’t care what time it is—even if it’s three am—contact me. Call me, text me, Discord me. Please. I won’t be mad at you.”

     “I—I...” He breathes in slowly and licks his lips, then nods. “I promise,” Adam says, and his voice is steady.

     Ze smiles at him, stands up, and leads Adam towards his bedroom, gently pushing him down onto the bed. He curls up next to him and tucks the other close, tugging the blankets over the both of them. “Go to sleep, Adam,” Ze tells him softly, already half-way through a yawn. Yawns are widely contagious and Adam yawns widely, his eyes sliding shut as he curls up close.

_((He looks so peaceful, curled up like that._

_There’s no sign of the broken man from the kitchen._

_For that, Ze is thankful.))_

**oOo**

     Barely two weeks after Ze returns to his own home, he gets a frantic text from Adam in the middle of the night.

_Nanners:_

i accidentally cut myself making something to eat 

and i’m barely keeping myself from doing it again 

_Ze:_

making something to eat after midnight? 

late night editing? 

_Nanners:_

yes 

what do i do 

_Ze:_

i’ll be right there 

don’t move 

     Ze gets to his feet and stretches, then quickly grabs a shirt, his keys, and heads for the door. He practically runs down the street, not stopping until he’s at Adam’s door. It takes a minute for him to catch his breath, and Ze spends a few seconds with his hands on his knees, panting breathlessly. The door is already unlocked when he gets there and he makes a beeline for the kitchen.

     There’s a knife on the counter, a tiny smear of blood on the blade. Adam is sitting on the floor with his head between his knees, his breathing is quick, coming in rapid little bursts, and Ze settles down beside him. One of his fingers is bleeding slightly and he’s just staring at the crimson liquid as it beads up. Ze drapes an arm over a shaking shoulder and tugs Adam closer, tucking his head against the Canadian’s neck. “Come here” he says softly, “let’s bandage your finger. Just breathe for me, okay?”

     Adam nods quietly and lets the Canadian lead him to his bathroom, watching silently as his finger is bandaged. He breathes in and out slowly, biting his bottom lip, and Ze leans over to seal their mouths together. “Thank you.”

     Ze smiles, then steadies himself. This needs to be said. “Adam, I gave you a heart-piece. We share a heartbeat.” He brushes their lips, gently thunking their foreheads together. “I love you.”

     The intake of breath Adam drags into his lungs his sharp and his eyes go wide. “You—?”

     “Love you, yes. Even with all of your imperfections. They’re not really imperfections to me. Everyone is a masterpiece still in the works.” Ze beams widely and cheerfully adds, “Wanna hang your painting next to mine?” and Adam cracks up, giggling almost hysterically.

     “Worst. Pickup. Line. _Ever_.” He gasps for breath, practically collapsing against Ze’s side and the Canadian grins, then hauls him up.

     “Come on, let’s go curl up on your bed. Your couch sucks, I don’t want to end up with a stiff back, and I quite like the idea of waking up next to you tomorrow morning,” Ze says with a smirk and Adam can feel his cheeks redden, but he lets Ze manhandle him onto his bed. He settles back onto the cool sheets and sighs, feeling more than seeing the Canadian settle beside him. An arm drapes over his waists and Adam frowns a little.

     “What is it about me?” he finally asks.

     “About you?”

     Adam sighs. “What made you first interested in me?”

     Ze rolls over and looks directly at him. “Back when we still hadn’t shown our faces to each other, the first thing that caught me was your laughter,”—he presses his lips against Adam’s throat, mouthing kisses on the flesh there—“followed closely by your sense of humor. You were bright and loud and I found myself liking your style immensely.” A flush coats Adam’s cheeks and he giggles; the sound changing as Ze sucks on his skin. “Do you want me to show you how much I want you?”

     A sharp inhale is Ze’s answer and Adam promptly goes a bright shade of red. He splutters loudly, completely at a loss for words, and covers his face with his hands. Ze gently takes one and mouths at the bandages, peppering the white fabric with kisses.

     “I love the color of your eyes,” Ze says between each kiss, shifting to press one right beside Adam’s right eye, “and I love your voice.” He laughs faintly and settles back, pulling Adam onto his lap and draping his hands over his hips, squeezing gently. “I enjoy your sense of style and your ridiculous temper.”

     Adam’s cheeks darken with each word and he tucks his face into Ze’s neck, giggling in embarrassment. He can feel Ze’s hands on his ass, and Adam coos softly, reaching up to kiss him.

_(For once, there is nothing but him and Ze._

_For that, Adam is thankful.)_


	7. two hearts beating in time (you’re welcome to join and make three)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is now officially plot with porn because i have no self-control

     Everything starts with Ze, and Adam is actually okay with that. It starts with him sitting on Ze’s lap on the bed, the Canadian’s hands on his hips, with his lips on his neck, and growing arousal pressing against Adam’s ass.

     (Adam is less scared of what Ze’s packing and more of what the other will say when he finally sees the thick, ropey scars on Adam’s inner thighs. The ones he spent years gouging and reopening because he couldn’t handle what life was throwing his way.

     But he’s also not scared at the same time, because Ze caught him slicing open his own flesh in the kitchen, blood all over the tiles below him, and was nothing but comforting and soothing with no harsh words. Ze was scared for him, not angry, and it’s a nice difference from the ‘Stop being so fucking stupid, Adam!’ he usually gets when others find out.)

     There’s a mouth on his neck and hands on his thighs and Adam is all too happy to let Ze unbutton his shirt. Ze sighs softly, sadness blooming in his gaze when he sees the scars that run down the inside of Adam’s inner arms—they range from the pale of years old to fresh, angry red—but he doesn’t comment, instead choosing to press a kiss against each and every one. “I can’t make you promise to stop,” he begins quietly, “because the mind can be a very cruel place, but promise me that you’ll come to find me if anything sharp starts to look appealing.”

     “I will,” Adam tells him, and is startled to find that he actually means it, and the smile Ze gives him could outshine the sun. Ze leans in and seals their mouths together, tangling their tongues, and mapping out everything he can reach and Adam keens softly in the back of his throat. He presses down, pushing Adam’s back against the sheets and settles between his legs, knocking his thighs apart and tugging at Adam’s clothing. There’s a hungry gleam in his eyes that wasn’t there before and Adam spreads his legs with a gentle sigh, his lips curving upwards in a shy sort of smile.

     “God, you’re gorgeous,” Ze tells him as he finishes removing Adam’s shirt, then sets to work on dealing with his pants. Adam hesitates slightly, licking his lips nervously, and slowly lifts his hips upwards.

     (He can tell when Ze sees the thick scars on his inner thighs because the other suddenly goes very still, and it sounds like he’s not even breathing.)

     A sad smile crosses Ze’s face and he leans over and begins pressing his lips against every single scar, kissing up and down Adam’s thighs with a single-minded determination. Adam sighs again, eyes sliding shut, and he clutches at the pillow underneath his head, keening softly with every brush against his skin.

     (This was definitely not what he was expecting; he didn’t think Ze would be this gentle and soft, but, really, Adam should have seen this coming.)

     He’s startled out of his thoughts when Ze runs his tongue right up his cock, digging the tip into his slit, and Adam jerks with gasp, arousal burning in his veins. Heat sears through him and Ze mouths hungrily at his thighs, sucking until deep purple blossoms bloom into existence on his skin, and Adam keens loudly, his hands shifting until they’re sliding into the Canadian’s hair and tugging at the dark locks. It’s rather comforting that Ze pays special attention to his scars, coming back again and again to kiss them. “You’re so gorgeous,” he sighs, one hand sliding down Adam’s side and he shivers. It’s apparently enough of a distraction, the feeling of Ze being so gentle, that the Canadian is able to slide two slick fingers inside of him and—when did he fetch lubricant?—Adam can’t stop the moan that escapes his lips at the sensation.

     Ze’s quick, but careful with stretching him open, and he quite cheerfully slides home with one, smooth thrust, ripping a moan of his name from Adam’s throat. He leans down to seal their mouths together and Adam wraps his legs around Ze’s waist, draping his arms over broad shoulders and hanging on for dear life.

_(Ze will bring Adam pleasure._

_Tonight is about him and him alone.)_

**oOo**

     Somehow, Adam doesn’t know exactly where or when—that’s a lie, he knows exactly where and when—Max manages to steal a heart-piece from him. He’s out and about, just getting groceries because Adam sometimes procrastinates horribly and now his fridge is more or less bare, and he runs straight into Max. He blinks at him for a second, absolutely stunned, and then smiles. “Oh, hi, Max. What are you doing here?”

     Max shakes his head slowly, looking amused at the shorter man’s antics. “Dropped by to say hello to Ze. He’s currently passed out on his couch and I noticed that his fridge needed some refilling.” He picks up a basket, turns, and heads towards the produce aisle.

     Adam laughs, because he and Ze are a lot alike, and says, “Same. I procrastinated pretty badly, and now I need to pick some things up if I want to eat more than canned beans,” dropping into step beside him. He picks up a bag of carrots and glances over them before dropping into his cart and moving on to snag a bunch of celery. Beside him, Max inspects a bag of red bell peppers, frowning slightly, though he does eventually add it to his basket.

     “Not looking for much, I assume?” Max asks, gesturing to the cart Adam is pushing.

     “You’re hilarious, you know that?” Adam says flatly, idly dropping a bunch of bananas in. “A real riot.” He frowns a little at the list in his hands and turns towards the next aisle. “I’m moving on. You coming, or do you still have things you want to grab here?”

     Max snorts. “I’m coming. Lead the way, mister president,” he retorts somewhat sarcastically and Adam bursts into a fit of laughter. He giggles as they head through the aisles, only stopping long enough to grab two boxes of cereal, before breaking into snickers again. They joke with each other as they head through the store, fetching items that they need as they pass by.

     It’s when they’re about halfway through the store that the feeling in Adam’s chest bubbles over and he quickly turns away from Max, facing a shelf and cupping his hands in front of him. He looks down, heart in his throat and barely breathing as the piece turns into a keychain holding the sombrero Max likes to put on his golf ball. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, because of course the heart-pieces wouldn’t requite. They have to be near the gifted to do so, and the one Max gave him is at home in the drawer by his bed. So he shoves the charm in a pocket, plasters a smile onto his face, and turns towards Max.

     “That reminds me!” Adam chirps, pulling the keychain out with a flourish. “I found this while I was out earlier and instantly knew it belonged to you.” His cheeks hurt from the force of the grin he’s faking and Adam watches as Max takes it out of his hand. Max recognizes it immediately as his face lights up and he twists it from side to side, watching the keychain glitter in the light.

     (Adam can see all too well the way it pulses and beats in time with his heart.)

     “It’s incredibly accurate,” Max informs him, tucking the heart-piece away into a pocket, and Adam nods, smile still plastered across his lips.

     “Exactly! That’s why I _knew_ I just _had_ to get it.” Adam grins widely and giggles. Max drops a hand onto the shorter man’s head and ruffles his hair, pulling away only when the lady scanning his items asks if he wants paper or plastic. They both pay and head out and Adam is all too happy to assist Max in loading everything in.

     (For a while after Max leaves, Adam sits in his car, drops his head into his hands, and just breathes.)

_((It only somewhat works._

_He’s choking on the air in his chest.))_


	8. i never thought i'd fall in love (especially not with you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> putting this here because i'm going to be really busy from monday on and i don't know when i'll next be able to post.

     The third thing Adam does once he gets home is panic and text Ze—the first being putting everything away, the second spending an hour and a half just breathing in an attempt to keep from having a full on anxiety attack.

_Nanners:_  
oh god what do i do  
i heart-pieced max by accident

_Ze:_  
wait, really?  
really really?

_Nanners:_  
ask him about the keychain  
it’s the sombrero he likes to put on his golf ball

     He drops his phone and buries his face in his hands, working on keeping his breathing steady. The chirp of his phone startles him and Adam jerks slightly, head snapping up. His screen flashes briefly, alerting him to the latest message from Ze, and Adam pulls it up, swallowing nervously.

_Ze:_  
that’s wonderful  
……  
wait, you said ‘heart-pieced’  
was it not requited?

_Nanners:_  
the one he gave me wasn’t on me at the time  
it’s in my drawer  
what do i do?

_Ze:  
do you want it requited?_

_Nanners:_  
YES  
so help me god ze  
HELP ME

_Ze:_  
ha ha ha  
i’ll pull up skype and call him

_Nanners:  
what will that do_

_Ze:_  
ohm told me heart-pieces can be requited through discord  
said that’s how he got his with the others  
as long as it’s face to face and the heart-piece is nearby it’ll work

     Adam reads the words, then reads them again before closing his eyes and breathing in. He’s practically choking on the hope that blooms in his chest. If this actually works, he’ll send Ohm the best, most expensive chocolate box he can find. Hell, Adam will get the rabbit chocolates imported straight from Sweden if this works. He might even be feeling generous enough to spring for the filled candies; the ones with creamy centers. Those are so good.

     It takes a few moments for his Skype to boot up all of the way and Adam takes the chance to unlock the drawer holding the heart-pieces and remove the one Max gave him. The plush cat is just as soft as the day he got it and Adam takes a seat at his computer, settling the heart-piece on his lap and just out of sight of the camera. Max answers almost immediately, blinking confusedly when he notices that it’s only Ze and Adam. “Did you need anything else, Ze? I just got home, but I can head out again if you need me to.”

     Ze grins. “Nah. Adam was just telling me about a keychain he got you and I wanted to see it for myself. Is it really that ridiculous hat you like to put on your golf ball?”

     Max snorts and removes his headphones before pushing away from his computer, chair rolling across the floor. There’s the faint sound of him rifling through a pocket, probably his jacket from earlier, and then he’s scooting back into view of the camera.

     Adam takes a deep breath and holds up the cat just as Max jingles the keychain.

     Ze barely catches sight of the little hat charm before both heart-pieces dissolve into pink mist and Adam jerks a little, breathing in sharply. Max’s eyes blow wide and he stares at his now empty hand, fingers pinched around nothing but thin air. “What the _fuck_?” he says, hand slowly shifting to press against his chest. Adam can tell when the other feels his quick heartbeat as his eyes grow even wider.

     Then a smile breaks across Max’s face and he starts laughing. “I was wondering what you did with my heart-piece. For a while there, after Ze shared what happened with his, I was terrified that you’d return them.”

     “I had them locked in a drawer for a while,” Adam admits quietly. “Had a horrible experience with them as a child that soured my entire view.”

     Max’s brow goes up slowly. “Oh?” he asks. “Am I allowed to ask or would you rather I didn’t?”

     Adam goes very quiet for a while and he stares down at his desk, nibbling on his bottom lip. “My father cheated on mother and destroyed her heart-piece. She committed suicide a week later. After that, I stopped answering to Adam and renamed myself Nanners.”

     “Well,” Max declares, “I have absolutely zero intentions of doing that to you and, if you don’t mine me saying it, your father was a fucking dick.” Adam nearly chokes on his own spit, and he starts laughing so hard he’s actually having trouble getting air into his lungs. Ze covers his mouth, but his beaming smile is visible even through his fingers.

     “Your laughter is beautiful, Adam,” Ze says. Max nods.

     “That’s what attracted me at first, too. Followed shortly by your fucked up sense of humor.” Max shakes his head slowly and shifts his headphones enough to run a hand through his hair. “And when you actually showed your face to us, well, I was fucked.” He shrugs. “Lost a heart-piece to you that day, though I stalled on sending it for quite a while.”

     Ze blinks. “What made you send it?”

     Max gestures in his direction and casually says, “You told me you sent one yourself. Didn’t say who it was to, but I decided that if you could do it, so could I. I think Chilled decided to do the same thing.”

     “I have his too,” Adam informs them, “as well as one from Smitty. They’re in the drawer as well. I just haven’t requited them yet.” He stretches, wincing a little when his still-healing wrists protest the movement, and he can see the way Ze eyes the hidden bandages.

     “You haven’t….?”

     “No. I got rid of all of them this morning before I went to the store.”

     Ze smiles, looking relieved. “That’s good. I don’t want to walk in on that again. I—” He hesitates and glances at Adam, gaze flickering towards Max, and Adam nods. “I never want to see you harm yourself again. Scared the absolute shit out of me when I walked in on all that blood.”

     Max goes perfectly still and his eyes immediately glue themselves to Adam’s wrists; the color slowly bleaches out of his face even as understanding dawns in his gaze. “I, too, am glad you’ve stopped,” he says, and it’s not patronizing in any way, shape, or form. There’s no sign of mocking, and his tone is filled with nothing but sheer relief.

     A smile blossoms on Adam’s face and he laughs, and says, “I had a reason to.” He pauses for a moment, and his grin widens. “Now I have two reasons.”

_(Soon he’ll have three, and maybe even four._

_All he has to do is trade heart-pieces with them._

_That's much easier said than done, though.)_


	9. bit by bit (we're getting somewhere now)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i originally had another ending planned, but then i discovered how old Smii7y actually is and promptly scrapped it. Because there is no way in hell i'm writing smut involving him when he's not even 21 yet. 
> 
> HE'S MY AGE.

     “What I want you to do, Adam, is think about Chilled and Smitty.”

     Adam frowns a little, leaning back in his chair as he takes a bite of pizza. He swallows the mouthful before asking, “And why are we doing this again?”

     Ze sighs and rolls his eyes upwards, looking very much like he’s attempting to refrain from praying for patience. “Just humor me,” he says flatly, with the air of someone inches away from throwing their hands up, and Max drinks from his mug in an attempt to hide his amusement.

     “I _am_ humoring you.”

     “Then why aren’t you thinking about them?”

     He grumbles a little and takes another bite, sniffing as he thinks about the only two heart-pieces he hasn’t requited. Chilled is entertaining even on an off day; his sense of humor and ridiculously sharp tongue can bright Adam’s mood at any time. And that’s not even mentioning the other’s fucking amazing snipes, accidental or not, that Chilled pulls off in Shellshock.

     Adam considers Chilled’s dark eyes, thinks about the shape of his jaw, and wonders what it would be like to run his fingers through his hair. He considers the way the other might taste, and what it would feel like to have Chilled’s body pressed against his own. Adam wonders what it would be like to be pinned down by him, writhing and begging on the sheets. He licks his lips slowly and breathes in, already feeling the familiar ache in his chest, and ducks his head. On the screen, Ze grins widely; he probably already knew that this was going to happen, that _bastard_ , and Adam huffs a breath in amusement. “You _ass_ ,” he says, almost fondly, and the Canadian’s smile gets even wider.

     “ _I_ did nothing.”

     “ _You_ did everything,” Adam informs him and reaches over to pick up the nearby heart-piece. He turns it around, inspecting the toy in his hand. It’s a doll version of Chilled with an exact replica of the hat he always wears, plush and red with the ‘C’ in the center, and Adam displays it onscreen. He winds up laughing hysterically with the others, and attempts to bury his face into his arms to keep from dying.

     It’s amazing to be able to laugh so freely again, and Adam has Ze to thank. Ze _and_ Max; he doesn’t know where he would be without them.

     (Probably lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood if he’s being entirely honest, but Adam tries desperately to not think about that too much.)

     Ze grins widely. “Now do Smitty.”

     Recovering slowly, Adam sets aside the doll and leans back in the chair, quietly considering the youngest of the group. Smitty is completely breathtaking sometimes; his tongue is as quick and sharp as Chilled’s with a sense of humor that’s just as twisted, and it’s an absolute delight to game with him. Adam licks his lips and breathes in, thinking about Smitty’s soft hair and what it would be like to run his hands through it. He wonders how the other would laugh in front of them, and what it would be like to fall asleep next to him.

     Adam closes his eyes and considers Smitty further; there’s something blooming in his chest at the thought of waking up next to him and he isn’t the least bit surprised when a heart-piece starts forming on the side of his desk. “Dammit, Ze,” he mutters, picking the pulsing, beating flesh as it transforms into a ridiculous milkbag plush. “You are a horrible influence and I hate you so much.” He displays both heart-pieces on his screen, watching as Ze and Max eye them.

     “Well,” Max says, looking amused in a way that says he’s trying not to laugh, “that was easy,” and Adam sticks his tongue out at him.

     “You’re both asses,” he mutters.

     Ze laughs at the both of them, and cheerfully says, “And you love the both of us anyway.”

_(Adam doesn’t bother refuting him, purely because it’s true._

_He wouldn’t have given away heart-pieces if that wasn’t the truth._

_The heart-pieces are mailed out the next day.)_

**oOo**

     It takes almost the entirety of two weeks for Adam to find enough courage to start his plan. Both Ze and Max are extremely patient with him, assisting him through the panic attack he has about halfway through the first week.

     (He spends two days in the darkness of his room, head between his knees and heaving frantically and rapidly. Both Ze and Max are at his side almost instantly, aiding him in regulating his breathing and keeping him from going absolutely insane. The voices of his head are incredibly loud, screaming in his ears, and the only thing keeping him even the slightest bit reasonable are Ze and Max.)

     The three of them boot of their Discord, and Ze is the one who calls Chilled and Smitty. Adam takes the time to breathe through another bout of panic and fetch the two remaining heart-pieces he has hidden away. Seconds later, only a moment after he has settled into his seat, the two of them appear. Smitty calls a cheerful, “What’s up, fuckers?” while Chilled merely waves his hands with a sleepy hello.

     Adam breathes in slowly and holds up both heart-pieces. Chilled stares at it a second, then raises a brow slowly. “I—what? What are you trying to say?”

     Smitty, on the other hand, apparently only needs exactly point three seconds to realize what’s going on, because his eyes blow wide and he practically hurls his headphones off in his haste to lunge for something off screen. Adam can hear the sound of a door being ripped open and slammed shut, and heavy footsteps thud down a hall. “Shit!” comes faintly through the mike, muffled through the door but still loud enough to hear clearly. “Shit! Shit! Shit! Where the _fuck_ did I put it?” The sound of drawers being rifled through comes and goes, followed shortly by “A-HA!” Seconds later, Smitty darts through the door, plush milkbag in hand, and he throws himself into his seat and holds it up.

     Adam licks his lips and lifts the heart-piece. Both pieces pulse once in their hands and glow brightly, dissolving into pink mist that fades into nothing. Smitty grins widely and presses a hand against his chest, clearly listening to the new heartbeat in his chest, and Adam gives a breathy sigh of pleasure.

     Ze grins. “That’s three now,” he says. “Well, Chilled?”

     “Oh, fuck me,” Chilled breathes, and his eyes are wide enough that Adam is actually concerned that they might pop out of his head. He leaps to his feet and hurries off screen and the faintest sound of cursing comes through. “Where did I leave it?!” Adam listens to the other curse loudly as he searches for the heart-piece gifted to him, and a soft smile curls his lips.

     It takes Chilled longer to find the toy replica of himself, but he finally recovers it from its place high up out of the range of his dog, and drops back into his chair with it, breathing heavily and beaming widely.

     The exchange is smooth, faint whirls of pinkish mist that fades away into nothing.

_( Adam laughs._

_The others trade heart-pieces until everyone has four heartbeats within their chests._

_This is everything he could have ever asked for. )_


End file.
